


rascals and scoundrels, villains and knaves

by shinealightonme



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Alternate Universe- No Supernatural, Bad Flirting, Crack, Disneyland, Fluff, M/M, Meet-Cute, Pre-Relationship, essentially a 'pulling on pigtails' level of flirting and emotional awareness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-19
Updated: 2021-03-19
Packaged: 2021-03-28 01:27:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,555
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30131883
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shinealightonme/pseuds/shinealightonme
Summary: He's so obviously telling them to fuck off and leave that the second Ronan gets outside he turns right around and heads back to the entrance.
Relationships: Ronan Lynch/Adam Parrish
Comments: 44
Kudos: 358





	rascals and scoundrels, villains and knaves

**Author's Note:**

  * For [philosophersandfools](https://archiveofourown.org/users/philosophersandfools/gifts).



> Written for philosophersandfools, who wanted a Pirates of the Caribbean AU. It turns out that I have almost no memories of those movies, but I have a lot of memories of Disneyland.

Ronan hadn't meant to drop his hand over the side of the boat. He hadn't _meant_ to do anything in hours. He'd shut down all decision-making when it turned out that _Grad Night_ at _Disneyland_ was even worse than he expected.

Mostly he'd trailed after Gansey, mindless and moody. The only real choice he'd made all night, once it turned out that they locked the place down so you couldn't escape until it was over, was to storm off on his own once or twice, let his friends chase after him rather than follow them into the most crowded parts of the theme park. That was sheer instinct, though, something pushing him away from the crowds and noise and excitement like he was the wrong type of magnet, forbidden from making contact.

If he was allowed to make any choices tonight, he sure as shit wouldn't be on the Pirates of the Caribbean ride, listening to Noah fuck up all the words to the stupid _yo ho_ song. So yeah, he'd slumped against the side of the boat, numb and irritable and painfully aware of the fact that it was three in the morning, so what? Fucking sue him. He's got other shit to worry about besides the fact that his fingers touched some gross-ass tourist trap water, like the fact that insomnia is somehow _worse_ when he's _supposed_ to be awake and everyone else is doing it too.

But it isn't enough for him to suffer in silence, he needs to have some asshole yell at him over the loud speaker, _as a reminder, please keep your hands inside the boat_ , while the ride lurches to a halt and he gets that much further away from getting to leave.

He sweeps his hand across the surface in a wide arc, splashing water toward the stupid cheesy singing robots.

"Come on, Ronan," Noah pleads, "just do what the voice wants."

"Why? What are they going to do about it?"

"Keep us here indefinitely, it would seem." Gansey glances over his shoulder, like maybe from that angle they're still moving.

Ronan pulls his hand up so that he can swing both legs over the side of the boat and let his feet dangle in midair.

The speaker comes back on. "Hands _and_ feet, to the guy in the front who thinks he's a badass."

"Hey!" Ronan yells. "You can't say shit like that in a family park, there's kids around!"

"There aren't any kids here," Noah says, because he's a fucking traitor who sides with disembodied fascists over his friends. "That's the whole point of grad night."

"Also," Benedict Gansey Arnold adds, proving that everyone Ronan loves betrays him, "I think we're the only people on this ride."

"Then they should let me do whatever I want."

Gansey looks at Noah. "From now on, Lynch has to sit in the middle."

"On it." Noah stands up -- rude; Ronan was propped up against him, because holding himself upright with his legs lifted isn't that comfortable. He climbs over Ronan -- even ruder -- and tries to sit in between him and the side of the boat -- rudest of all, and stupidest. There _is_ no "in between Ronan and the side of the boat."

Ronan pushes him back toward his own seat, because it's his God-given right to not have an ass in his face unless he wants an ass in his face, except Noah has to go and fall forward instead of backwards. He grabs the back of Noah's shirt and hauls him in before he can hit the water, but does anyone thank him for it? No, he just gets yelled at, first Noah's "ouch! hey, let go" and then the music cutting out again so some smartass can tell him, "amazingly enough, 'hands and feet' applies to other people's hands and feet, too."

"He's the one who tried to go swimming," Ronan argues, "what the hell are you yelling at me for?"

"I doubt you're being heard," Gansey says.

"HEY." Ronan cups his hands over his mouth and yells. "YOUR RIDE SUCKS."

Noah takes advantage of Ronan being distracted and sits on top of him. He wiggles, trying to force Ronan over, and Gansey ropes an arm around him to help. In the end Ronan gives up and scoots on his own, because _ow_ , Noah has a bony butt. But he scowls, so they don't get any ideas about him being a team player.

"I don't need guard dogs."

"My doubts persist," Gansey says.

-

The ride finally, finally, _finally_ ends; how the hell can Disney make crying babies and hysterical preteens and grandpas in diapers sit through anything that long?

Ronan squirms to get free of Gansey and Noah, who are still penning him in like they think he's going to do anything now except get the hell out of here. He stumbles as he clambers over them to get out of the boat -- and then stumbles again, when he sees the employee that's pointing them toward the exit, because _holy fuck_ , he didn't know people could look like that; what the hell was someone like _that_ doing operating shitty movie tie-ins for bitch-ass tourists? People like that were supposed to be _in_ movies, or maybe just appearing unto shepherds with messages from God.

The ineffably beautiful theme park attendant scowls.

"Have a good night." It's sarcastic, and also, it's the voice from the loud speaker. At least Ronan was right about that, and he does do the whole _delivering angry messages from on high_ schtick. "Enjoy _the rest_ of the park."

He's so obviously telling them to fuck off and leave that the second Ronan gets outside he turns right around and heads back to the entrance.

Gansey sighs. "This is going to end poorly."

"Yeah," Noah agrees, "duh," but that doesn't stop either of them from following him, because they're fucking cowards with no conviction. Or, Gansey is. Noah sounds kind of pumped for a disaster.

-

They stick with him through the next few trips. Gansey confiscates his wallet when he starts throwing change at the creepy robot drunks trying to buy creepy robot wives. Noah sits on his lap when he tries to stand up. Both of them grab an arm and pin him down when he tries to rock the boat hard enough to flip it. Noah takes a selfie of that moment, the three of them smashed together like they're friends instead of a prisoner and two jailors.

Noah's arm sticks out over the edge of the boat while he's lining up the shot, but no one yells at _him_.

They draw the line after the time that Ronan shoves Noah and he actually does go over the edge and into the water. Babies. It's not like he drowned. Ronan even fished him out of the water and hauled him back in, but did anyone thank him? No, Noah just yelped about his phone, and Mickey Mouse's divine messenger threatened to call security on him, and Gansey moaned about having to bail him out of Disney jail, like he wouldn't rather do it in Disneyland than at a real jail.

-

The gorgeous tyrant of New Orleans Square has an ominous look in his eyes when Ronan returns alone.

"How much am I going to regret letting you on?"

"I can't read your mind," Ronan says. "You tell me."

"A lot. The answer is a lot. How drunk are you?"

Gansey had attached himself to Ronan's side like a leech before they even got on the bus. He hasn't seen a drink all night. He doesn't share that fact. "Why, do you have a breathalyzer? Are you going to make me blow on something before I can get on the ride?"

The masterpiece painting brought to life in front of him sighs and shakes his head. "Just tell me if you're drunk enough to puke. I don't want to deal with that tonight."

"I'm not going to puke, Jesus. This isn't even a real ride."

"And yet you keep going on it," he says. "We have better ones. You could go on Space Mountain, that ride killed someone." It's unclear if he assumes that Ronan would consider that a plus, or if that's his way of telling Ronan to fuck off and die. 

Ronan pretends to consider the suggestion, then shakes his head. "Nope. I'm going on this one."

The belligerently enchanting Disneyland employee watches him through narrowed eyes while he gets on the boat. When the recording starts playing, telling Ronan all of the rules, he crosses his arms: _this means you, asshole._

-

Declan always says that Ronan has no impulse control, which just proves that Declan's got his head too far up his own ass to see anything. Ronan has self-control. Most shit just isn't worth it. Getting a good grade? Not worth reading all that boring crap. Getting fawned over for being the politest young man? Not worth pretending shitty people don't suck.

Getting to stay on Pirates of the Caribbean instead of being dragged off to Disney jail? That is worth following a couple of rules, as long as he can get as close as possible to breaking them first.

The ride comes to a complete stop twice while his hands, arms, legs, and feet are all still _technically_ inside the boat; a third time it slows down and lurches, like it almost stopped. Or like the ride is starting to crap out, but he still counts it as a win. He looks up at where he figures the security camera is, same as he did the two times before, and shrugs, an innocent little, _hey, what gives?_

"You aren't going to enjoy the rest of the park, are you," is all the reaction that his rudely attractive nemesis gives him on his way out.

"Wasn't enjoying it before." Ronan gives a cheery little wave. "Not gonna start now."

-

Disney's most criminally miscast employee picks the conversation right back up when Ronan returns through the entrance, like there hadn't been a pause. "This ride is for _kids_. No one else here wants to go on it at four in the morning one time, let alone ten times. There isn't anything else you'd rather be doing?"

Ronan drops into the same seat he just got up from. "Not a single thing."

"Seriously, this is how you thought you'd celebrate graduation? Stalking animatronic Jack Sparrow?"

Ronan says, "I never thought I'd make it to graduation."

"Oh." The breathtaking beauty in the tacky pirate costume fidgets, hand moving up to his elbow and then dropping again. Of fucking course Ronan had to go and be too honest, and of fucking course he had to _notice_ Ronan made it weird. Why couldn't he just be stupid like everyone else in this stupid theme park. "Well. Congrats."

"Shut up, it's not over," Ronan snaps defensively. "I've got a month. I could still get expelled."

"You know, I've never said this to anyone in my life, but I have _complete_ faith in you," and he sends the boat off, _whoosh_ , before Ronan can respond.

-

"Welcome ashore, enjoy the rest of the park."

"You know I'm going to go again," Ronan says, "why can't you let me stay on?"

Whatever the original reason, as soon as he asks that the real reason becomes _because you said you wanted to_.

"Sorry." At least Ronan's mind-boggling knockout of an adversary smiles at him when he says it. The smile contains some actual amusement and absolutely no remorse. "It's a safety guideline."

"Oh, like you aren't crossing your fingers hoping something bad happens to me."

"I'm not, I really want you to be safe. You dying right now would be so much more work than you throwing up."

"It's more dangerous for me to get up and walk around the building. What the hell is going to happen to me just sitting here?"

He taps his finger on his staggeringly perfect jawline, pretending to think up an answer when they both know there isn't one. "Sitting is really bad for your health."

"Says who, your fucking mouse king?"

He snorts. "That is the excuse they have for making us stand all shift."

Ronan frowns. "You're not allowed to sit down?"

Every trace of joy instantly vanishes from his face. "Technically, we're allowed to." He looks down at his podium like there's something there that needs his attention. "Enjoy the rest of the park."

-

Ronan turns left out of the exit, instead of right. He pokes around -- while every last teenager in Southern California goes past, running and shrieking and laughing, ugh -- until he finds a restaurant with a cute little outdoor dining area.

 _Then_ he heads back to the entrance. He wonders if he was gone long enough for it to be noticeable.

-

"What is that."

"It's a chair," Ronan says, but his inexplicably stunning enemy keeps staring at it like he's never see one before. "You sit on it."

"Do you have any idea how much trouble I could get into?"

"There's only one amount of trouble. You're in it or you're not."

"That's not true."

Ronan rolls his eyes. "You just think that because you've never been in trouble."

"Also not true."

"Then if you're already in trouble, what's the big deal?" He extends his arms out farther, pushing the chair forward, _here, take it._

"Just -- put it down, I'll get rid of it later," he says, and when Ronan steps into the boat to bring it to him, he adds, "over _there_ , you can't bring a _chair_ onto the ride."

Ronan's already across the boat by the time he finishes. He hops up onto the far side of the platform and drops it off next to the podium, instead. "I have that damn introduction memorized by now. They never say shit about chairs."

"They shouldn't have to."

"Fine." He picks it up again and takes a step back. "I'll walk it over there, bringing it onto the ride _again_ \-- "

"No, God, just give it to me -- "

He reaches for the chair while Ronan's still pulling it away, and his hand lands right on top of Ronan's.

Ronan freezes. The impossible Disney supermodel freezes. His eyes dart down toward the chair between them and his cheeks turn pink. Ronan wants to lift his hands up, press them against his face and feel the heat of him blushing, except wait, no, _what the fuck?_

The inconveniently dazzling vision of loveliness shifts his hand down and yanks the chair away with enough force that Ronan stumbles. He practically falls over backwards into the boat. The ride starts before he's even settled in, but he's too rattled to pull any shit.

-

Ronan cranes his neck to see around the last curve of the ride long before the boat gets to the end.

It doesn't do him any good. Some new chick's leaning at the podium, radiating boredom while she picks at her nail polish. His boy is gone.

"You want to go again?" she asks when he makes no attempt to stand up. He doesn't attempt to answer, either. He's got other shit on his mind. Who is she. Where the hell did she come from. Where do any of these employees come from. Where do Pirates of the Caribbean operators go when they are not operating Pirates of the Caribbean.

Apparently silence counts as a _yes_ at Disneyland, because the ride starts up again. Without Ronan having to argue with anyone or listen to insults or walk in a big circle in the middle of the night. Just, boom, throw a switch and he's sailing off into the swamp again.

Fuck, he hates the swamp. Matthew was too little for a bunch of the rides, the last time they'd been here, and he's gotten bored of the baby rides. He got so excited about Pirates, because he said it was a big kid ride, and then as soon as it started he freaked out. The pirates hadn't even shown up yet, it was just the dark that got him. Or maybe he was shit scared of banjos, who fucking knew. All Ronan knew was that his brother wanted to _leave_ and Ronan couldn't give him that. He held his hand, as tight as he could, but it wasn't _enough_.

Matthew was all smiles again by the time they got to the treasure rooms, laughing at the animatronics like he'd forgotten ever being scared, but Ronan didn't forget, not until long after they'd gotten home.

He hadn't thought about it in years. He hadn't thought about Disneyland in years. Why would he? That was shit you did as a _family_.

Ronan slumps back against the seat and shuts his eyes. He tunes out the splashing and the cannon fire and the yo ho yo ho, just waits for it to be over.

-

"Hey. Asshole." It doesn't sound angry, the way the voice says it. It just sounds like a name -- _hi there, Asshole, nice to meet you._ "Wake up."

Ronan does the first step of his waking up process, which is to mumble "fuck off" and roll over. Or he tries to. Whatever he's lying on is really uncomfortable. He's not even really lying down. Ow. Where the fuck is he?

"Can't do that until you wake up," the voice says. "Come on, the park's closing, you're going to miss your bus."

He sits up, since sleeping here's too damn painful anyway, and rubs at his face. The word _park_ burrows itself through his skull: Right. Disneyland. Grad Night, which he's pretty sure was supposed to go until seven in the morning; it had been four, four-thirty maybe, the last time he'd checked his watch. Which means he'd been asleep for at least two hours. That was the longest stretch he could remember getting in -- weeks. And he'd done it passed out in a puddle on a boat on Pirates of the Caribbean, which is weird even before he opens his eyes and sees the guy he'd spent the whole night pissing off.

"You let me sleep?"

"You fell asleep on your own," he disagrees, like he thinks Ronan is _blaming_ him.

"And then you _let me_ sleep."

The actual angel -- two hours of sleep, maybe three, holy shit -- explains, "no one else was using it."

He breaks eye contact to say it. You don't do that for an explanation. You do that for an excuse.

Ronan swallows, forcing his stupid heart out of his throat and back into his chest. "Isn't it against your precious rules for someone to pass out on a ride?"

"No, because it never needed to be a rule before now."

"Not my fault Walt Disney couldn't predict me."

"I don't think that's his fault, either. No one could be reasonably expected to predict you." He sticks out a hand, which means Ronan doesn't have to figure out how the fuck to respond to that, he can just take it and keep his mouth shut.

For a weird second he thinks they're going to shake hands, like that _good game, you were a worthy opponent_ bullshit he vaguely remembers from before getting kicked out of little league soccer -- but then the boy holding his hand pulls, and oh, right, he's helping him get out of the boat, because he's supposed to leave now.

Ronan wants to jump overboard into the water, or push the guy off the platform, or just cling to his hand and not let go, which, uh, shit, is actually what he's doing. He drops it so fast it's rude and shoves his hands into his pockets, where he doesn't have a wallet and his dead cell phone probably has a bunch of panicked messages from Gansey, like Ronan wasn't right where he left him.

"Now you know better," Ronan says. "About rules and shit."

"Yeah, you're really enlightening."

"Are you going to add a bunch of new rules because of me?"

"I don't know," he says. "I guess you'll have to come back next weekend and find out."

Ronan's whole body stops. He can't even breathe. Every part of him goes stock-still, except for his stupid heart, which starts banging on his chest like it's trying to get out.

 _Next weekend_ is specific. _Next weekend_ is an _invitation_ \--

And then Gansey's voice drops on him out of nowhere, " _there_ you are, Ronan, what are you doing here, we're going to be stranded in _Anaheim_." He materializes to grab Ronan's arm and drag him away.

Ronan is too dumbstruck to fight him. All he can do is watch his boy messing with something at the podium, his face pink again. Ronan still wants to warm his hands against that blush, but that doesn't make him feel so weird and desperate anymore.

He calls back, "Bet I can find more rules to break!"

"That's a sucker's bet, Ronan, I'm not taking it," and it's a solid minute before he realizes that the intense light blinding him is because Gansey steered him outside, and is not some kind of reaction to hearing his name in that voice.

"What trouble have you caused now?" Gansey asks.

"None." Ronan smiles so wide that Gansey will assume this is a trick, but can't stop. "None at all."

**Author's Note:**

> "wouldn't it be funny if Ronan just didn't notice Adam had a nametag and so he had to keep describing him in ridiculous overblown ways instead of thinking about him by name" I have never regretted a decision more in my life
> 
> If you like this fic, you can [reblog it on tumblr](https://toast-the-unknowing.tumblr.com/post/646060189931503617/adam-ronan-pirates-of-the-caribbean-au-lololol).


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